TISIPHONE
by silk1
Summary: THIS IS A ROME STORY! After the death of Ceasar, Brutus has a visitor who confronts him with his guilt and the consequences of his actions.


DISCLAIMER: I wished I owned ROME……but Alas, I do not.

NOTES: I saw the last episode and this just ….basically wrote itself.

**TISIPHONE**

In the beginning it had been laughter, light and warm like summer rain. Laughter that teased his ears like a breeze, neither malignant nor threatening. The whispers had started soon after that, sweet mumbled words he could not discern, gentle like a lover's touch. It had been days before he realized that the sweet whispers had only held one word….one word over and over again. MURDERER.

The comprehension had turned his blood into ice. The thought of it made his stomach turn and his heart beat fast as a fleeing rabbit.

It had to be done. He'd done it for the republic. He had reasoned with himself over and over again. Trying to pull himself together, trying to persuade himself that it was merely his mind playing tricks on him. It had been a bloody, unworthy business…but killing a tyrant should be messy, right? Killing was not something he was well accustomed to, but somehow Brutus of the Junii was sure that killing would never be clean.

It had been the right thing to do, so why was he still struggling with his conscience? All of Rome was in upheaval. But in time ...he reassured himself again, in time all would be well.

Still the whispers would not cease, and the nightmares came …and every time his mother reassured him, that the good people of Rome would see the righteousness in his deeds….he could hear the faint laughter rippling through his head like wind chimes.

Three days later he woke up to find …her …sitting at the foot of his bed, watching him. He was drenched in sweat, his legs tangled in the covers. For a moment he just stared at her, not sure whether he was still dreaming. She might as well be a figment of his imagination.

"Who are you?" he whispered.

She was dressed like a noble woman, a daughter of a wealthy family. Her dress was simple, silvery grey, but made from expensive silk. Her rich dark hair neatly arranged in an elaborate design of curls and braids. Her dark eyes watched him unblinking as she gave him the slightest smile.

"You know who I am, Brutus. Surely you must know. I have come here for you." Her voice was as dark as her eyes and hair, dark and husky, running over his skin like a caress that made him shiver.

He shook his head, giving a disbelieving laugh. "No…"

Her smile widened and she leaned forward as though to kiss him, her cold breath gliding over his cheek as she whispered. "Murderer."

He jumped off the bed as though it was on fire, shaking his head."No, no…This is madness."

"Maybe …maybe just your conscience driving you insane with guilt and shame." She was tall for a woman, tall and slender like a birch in the field. Sherose with the grace of weeds in the wind, reaching out for him as though she meant to embrace him.

"I did what I had to for the good of Rome. It had to be done. He was no innocent. He did nothing but conquer and scheme all his life …he would have brought down the republic. He had to be stopped!"

"Are you a god to decide the fate of nations?" she asked, her voice loosing all it's warmth.

Brutus felt the breath catch in his throat as he watched the humanity and sweetness drain from her face. It gave her beauty an eerie quality that was threatening, unnatural.

"Are you a god to decide who lives or dies?" she spat at him. "You took a life. You conspired to slay a man to whom you once looked up to like a father. You killed a man, not in battle, not in contest but in deceit. You watched as they fell upon him like jackals in the night. There is no honour in that. There is no excuse, no mitigations in a deed such as this."

She smiled again and this time it was cruel. "Thus I am here…"

For a moment her appearance flickered, showing her true self. She stood before him naked, clothed only in the wild, untamed tresses of dark hair that fell almost to knees. Her hands reaching for him, turning into bloody claws, her eyes obsidian pools of blackness. Blood ran from those eyes, trickling down her cheeks to her collarbone. Her skin shining in the dark like pale moonlight as dark, leathery wings stretched out behind her."Murderer." Her voice sounded like screeching, a sound not made for mortal ears. A fury in all her glory. One of three sisters who carried the wrath of crimes unpunished.Tisiphone; she who avenged murder. She who could not be bribed or bargained with.

Then the vision was gone and she stood before him as before, a pretty woman with a pretty face.

Brutus shook his head again, his throat tight with tears he would not allow himself to cry. He was going mad ….this could not be real. "I did what I had to do…." he whispered harshly."They will see what I did was for the good of the republic, for the good of the people.

She folded her hands underneath her breasts, laughing as though he had made a charming jest."You don't care for the people… Rome is not nobility, Brutus, as you well know. The nobility was afraid of losing power and so …you killed what had you so scared. But Rome …the true Rome is the mob, the plebs you looked down upon all your life." Her smile turned taunting. "Do you really believe they will understandwhy you killed their hero? Do you really believe they care for those high ideals you hold in front of you like a brittle shield to defend your actions?"

The fury looked at him, her face going soft for a moment and she looked at him like a mother pitying a dim-witted child. Brutus swallowed, feeling anger rise in him. Maybe she was right, maybe they were too stupid, maybe they lacked the insight to understand …but that did not make him wrong.

"History will vindicate me." He told her angrily.

She laughed again, louder this time. It was a chilling sound. "History is written by the victors, Brutus, by those who survive." She wound one of her dark curls around her finger, an utterly feminine display of amusement. The gesture had him completely mesmerized. She looked at him as though she was thinking of seducing him, and then leaned forward again. "It does not matter who Julius Caesar really was, what schemes he hatched or plans he had for Rome. His name will never die now, you made sure of it. Thousands of years from now his name will be spoken with reverence and respect. He will forever be the great conqueror, the visionary, a man of the people beloved by Rome. And you and your friends will forever be traitors, a group of senators conspiring to kill one unarmed man. That is now your fate."

Brutus stared at her, all strength leaving him. He sacked against the wall, unable to stand any longer.

"You will never be free again, never …at peace."

"Leave me then." He told her in a resigned tone. "You have utterly destroyed me as is your duty. You have done your worst…"

The fury still smiled, shaking her head. "That you have brought on yourself. I am not done with you, Brutus of the Junii. Did you think I would come to haunt you with nightmares alone? With visions of ruin or to gnaw on your bones? Ohh …for a man such as you I have found that knowledge is the cruellest torture of all."

"What more could there be?" he laughed bitterly.

Her smile turned vibrant and more spiteful at the same time. "You should have killed him too…both of them in fact. Did you think Marc Anthony would just disappear once his mentor, his teacher …his friend was dead?" She approached him slowly, bowing down to where he was sitting so she could capture him with those merciless dark eyes. "He will kill you…all of you. They will band together, not now but in due time …they will put their differences, their pride, their ambition and aspirations aside. And they will hunt you down …eachand everyone of you. Those who do not take their own life will die by their hands. They will be uneasy allies, for Anthony is too bold and Octavian is too young still…but they will kill you all to avenge Caesar's death. And Rome will cheer them on."

"Octavian?" Brutus gave another bitter laugh. "That pasty boy? You must be joking!"

He watched her face grow serious, solemn even. Her stare never wavering, fixing him to the wall with the force of an avalanche. "Ohhh….that pasty boy…." She sighed. "How ironic that you killed one would- be- emperor to deny him the crown, only to put his nephew on the throne. It was all for nothing …"

Brutus eyes grew wide. "You lie …"

"Why would I? To what end would I lie now? When the truth is more punishment to you than any tale my mind could weave? That boy will be the greatest emperor Rome has ever seen."

She was right, Brutus realized. Maybe he should have killed Anthony too…had he known he would help put another tyrant on the throne. As though she had read his thoughts, the fury laughed again, stroking his hair. He flinched, hating himself for his weakness. He could feel his heart beat against his ribs like a trapped thing.

"There is only one weapon that will bring Marc Anthony down …" she whispered. "The one thing he never searched for, never know he was missing…true love. Not heady lustor the thrill of seduction, but true love.It will be his downfall."

Now it was his time to laugh. Brutus leaned his head back and laughed."That arrogant, unruly bastard….serves him right."

The fury raised an eyebrow at him. "You will not be there to see it." She said coldly,squashing his glee like one would squash a bug. Then her voice took an a soft, seductive note. Like velvet running over his skin.

"Ohh …Love will strike them like lightning. It will set fire to him and burn him to ashes. They will reach for the stars and loose it all. Their love will destroy a whole kingdom in its wake. And yet …he will have what you will never know, Brutus …he will find himself in a wicked smile on a strange shore. He will find his match, his companion and be whole …For one bright shining moment he will have it all. And even though this love will be his downfall, the memory of their love will forever be remembered in songs and poems. Even in ruin he will still win over you …" Slowly, the fury straightened herself.

"It is not all to be laid at your door though, I know that. Do not worry, no one escapes our wrath. Your mother should have thought about that before calling upon my sister to satisfy her anger over being the discarded mistress of a great man. There are fates worse than death and her rage has condemned you both."

Brutus pressed his lips together, staring at her in confusion and despair."So then ….mighty Tisiphone…what am I to do? Would you have me take my life in redemption?"

There was a fleeting grief in her eyes for a moment as she looked down at him. Her voice was almost sad. "There really is no need. That is not your fate ….and it would not suffice. I cannot be bargained with, you know that."

She held her hand out to him and it took Brutus a moment to understand that she meant to help him up. The strength of her surprised him, when she pulled him to his feet.

As they stood in the dim twilight that crept through the window, the first rays of sunlight reaching out for the city from behind the hills, he looked at her. He could almost forget what she was. He could almost loose himself in her dark eyes and forget that she had come to drive him insane. "What would you have me do?" he asked.

Her face was unreadable, but she reached out her hands to frame his face lightly, like a butterfly's touch. Her hands were cool, soothing, lulling him into a false sense of security.

She leaned her forehead against his for the space of a breath.

"Run…Brutus. Run from your fate, from Anthony and Octavian and the people's wrath. The tide is already turning against you. So run from them all…"

She pulled back until only the tips of her fingers touched his face and gave him that otherworldly, threatening smile. "…and most of all, Brutus …run from me. It is not fun if they don't run. You have glimpsed me now …but whether you see me or not, Brutus of the Junii, you will never be free of me. You will never be whole from now on until the day you die. I will always be with you."


End file.
